Clouded By the Sky
by DandylionFields
Summary: Ivan, Emperor of the Eastern Front, makes it a mission to secretly unite with the heir apparent of the Kingdom of Kanata to extend his empire. He's mighty good at keeping his plan away from his enemies, but things take an off turn when he get suspicious as to why his enemy-empires are sailing men to the vast lands south of Kanata. Rating MIGHT change :0 AU/ RusAme
1. Eastern Ambitions

**a/n;; Honestly, I don't know why I'm starting another story -head desk-. I have yet to finish like 3 -~! Regardless, even though I'm barely partial to RusAme, I do like their, uh, personality mix? Here's the full summary of Clouded by the Sky: **

**The Emperor of the Eastern Front, Ivan Braginsky, wishes to extend his vast Northern land even further, going so much**

**as across the Pacific Ocean. With his spies everywhere, he's quick to find out that the Kingdom of Kanata includes many natural resources**

**and oil reserves un-tapped. However, he is not to keen on simply overthrowing the peaceful and neutral Kingdom, afraid **

**that it will alert other Empires (as it did****_ ONCE _****the previous time), and decides**

**to woo the heir apparent, Matthew of Kanata, into a union. He's rather good at keeping it a secret, but wait! Why are**

**his spies telling him his enemies are sailing south?!**

* * *

A slight breeze wafted into the Emperor's foyer as he unlatched the front door of his spacious estate. He inhaled the icy fragrance in the air and smirked. The two soldiers that stood at both sides of the doorway stiffened as their Supreme ruler glanced at them. Under the thick coats and boots, they both looked fine, but Ivan knew they were tightening their grasps on their staffs and their knees were growing weak. It was just the normal aura that the Supreme ruler had to his loyal workers. Ivan gripped one of the men's shoulders and smiled smugly. The soldier let out a soft whimper, but pursed his lips and nodded at his superior.

"_Don't be scared. Have we not gone through this many times?_" Ivan sighed, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

The soldier just nodded weakly. Ivan took back his hand and grinned with approval. His two assistants behind him gave the two soldiers a look of pity. It seemed that intimidation was a drug that Ivan needed several doses of each day, and it didn't look like he would be giving up his intake in a while. Ivan seemed ignorant to his workers and took a proud step out of his grandeur castle. A sleek black automobile received just the final polish from its chauffeur, and it was ready just on time for the ruler to enter. With a curt nod, the chauffeur bowed at his superior and then without a word, scurried to the front seat. Toris, Ivan's right-hand man (and personal slave, you might as well call it) gripped the door handle to allow the ruler in.

"_Where are we headed today, my Supreme?"_ the driver, murmured, starting up the engine. He hissed under his breath when buttons flashed of the trouble he might encounter with the snow traffic.

Ivan snorted, and nudged Toris as he leaned over to pop open a new bottle of vodka.

"_L-L-Lord Eduard's, driver_." The brunet stuttered, covering his face when his superior glanced at him with a look of disgust.

"_Right. Sit back, sirs. I will alert when we are near._"

* * *

The thick map made of pressed papyrus was tacked across the otherwise blank wall, red markings and flags of the Eastern Empire attached around a large area. Lord Eduard of Estone was fluttering around his office in jitters, having just received a call that his superior was going to arrive in mere minutes. He had his super-computer powered on, and charged to assist in whatever plans Ivan planned to put into motion this year. He hadn't seen the Emperor in months, having been off the big man's case for a while. Eduard knew the peace would end eventually, however, and this time, after being hinted from his other colleagues, he knew it was time Ivan went ahead and try to expand his vast territory. Eduard opened his cabinet to fetch the expensive vodka he always offered his emperor, and glanced over at the map.

There was just that large vast of Western land that was still ruled by peaceful rulers, at least in the north. The southernmost plots of land was said to inhabited by audacious nativespeople who had tight reins with the Spanish. Eduard knew Ivan wished to spite the mediocre Spanish (at least, at one point he did), but Ivan preferred climates of cold and ice. There was very likely chance he would venture to the Western Kingdom in the North, a once bloody landscape that over the years morphed to be self-sufficient neutral kingdom.

It made much sense, though, Eduard knew. However, there was that plot of 'no-man's-land' that all the European and Asian empires/ kingdoms knew to be reliant on no one but themselves. There had never been much of a want for that 'barbaric' land, however. Rumours went that the Spanish had visited some parts, but left for a still-unknown reason. Nevertheless, Eduard shook his head to stop running through which lands the ruthless Emperor wished to overtake. Right now, what he needed to do was calm his nerves.

The door bell rang once, and sent the frazzled man to wreckage.

* * *

"My Lord, you are looking as pale as ever, da?" Ivan chuckled satirically. He untied his furry cloak and tossed it harshly at Toris.

Eduard got on his knees and bowed weakly at the large man.

"My Emperor," he stuttered.

"Get up. I have a job I want you to do."

Eduard nodded hastily, dusting himself off. "Yes, of c-c-course. Anything."

"I need you to alert the Kingdom of Kanata that I wish to court their heir apparent."

O-O-O

He cocked his head to the side and flicked the long curly strand that seemed to never disappear. It bounced when his cheeks lifted, and it swayed as he walked. Despite the bother it gave the Crown Prince, he could never find it in his heart to actually axe it off. It was a weird thing, but it was a unique characteristic of the Prince. Ever since his mother had been placed into a suite where ten nurses whisked around her precariously, Matthew noticed it started to look droopier than usual. It was as if the simple piece of hair was a monitor for his true feelings. Matthew of Kanata sighed and buttoned the rest of his long tunic and tightened the belt of his breeches. It was going to be another day of stabilizing his Kingdom- the slowly falling Kanata.

Every time someone brought up the once optimistic outlook of his father's Kingdom, a large bump in his throat seemed to swell and throb. His father hadn't been alive in almost half a decade, and it seemed once the king was disposed, it was only a matter of time before he took all that power along with him to Heaven. Matthew perched his glasses to the top of the bridge of his nose and inhaled. No matter what anybody says, things will be alright. He flinched as those words trickled through his brain. His mother had been insistent upon that phrase ever since the Kingdom-wide mourning of the King. With a quick tousle of his hair, Matthew nodded to himself and walked out of his room. He descended down the stairs with the silence and grace he seemed to have mastered quickly. The palace servants gave him curt nods when the noticed him- apparently, he wasn't the loudest or most noticed noble in the castle. He brushed off looks of ignorance and bound to the kitchen, needing a fresh serving of pancakes before he was sent off to a daily chore, probably something boring like checking up the health and economy of the Kingdom.

Matthew whistled softly for his pet bear, and his face lit when the unusual choice for a pet leaped into its owner's arms.

Well, no matter what happened, he always had Kumi.

O-O-O-O-O

Sitting cross legged in front of the fire, the silvery-white haired man scrolled with great precision down his documents of secret information. Even though the Kingdom that his heart had been promised to was in a failing state, he still couldn't find it in his heart to return to his homeland in the small and mediocre Kingdom of Germania. Gilbert hummed to himself with a bottle of beer between his lips as his eyes skimmed the notes (that were sent in code) to him. He thought he must have misread them, but after quadruple-checking, Gilbert's lips parted, sending the bottle of bear crashing to the plush carpets of his suite. Great, now the carpet would reek of beef. How awesome.

Deciding that he would call a servant later to help him, Gilbert drew a red circle around the new message he was sent from unknown spies in other Kingdoms and zapped his screen closed. He was hyperventilating at this point. What was he going to tell his Prince? He found the 18-almost-19 year old Prince a bit of a weakling, but Gilbert would have never said that in public. Once the Prince did turn 20, he would ascend the throne as King. Nevertheless, Gilbert drew in a sharp intake of breath as he realized that the note he'd gotten might actually be true.

_WHO DO I TELL? WHO DO I TELL? DO I TELL ANYONE?! AGH! DECISIONS ARE SO NOT AWESOME!_

Gilbert doused the fire after coming to the conclusion the heathen was mocking him with its cackles. He scratched his nose and flinched.

Well, if you're going to tell your prince, tell him now.

* * *

Afterword;;

This is a 'beta' (is that the word?), and alike _The Shuffle, _MIGHT be put on hiatus. I try to keep updating based on reviews or interest in the story :X Thanks


	2. Hearts Break, News Take

**a/n;; Here's a short chapter / continuation :0 I probably won't have as many updates for any of my stories for a while as the long weekend (at least where I'm from) is over in three hours :) **

* * *

The calloused hands of the young adult pressed tightly onto the frame of the doorway of his guardian's bedroom. Apothecaries and their apprentices surrounded the tanned body, the owner being the wise man Alfred had looked up to all his life. That man that currently lay in an ill-fated state had his days numbers. And even if Alfred continued to wish upon those stars he caught late at night, he knew that the death of his guardian was inevitable.

Pressure built into his grasp, and when he felt the wood of the wall give in, two heads turned around to find the flushed boy smiling nervously, nodding his head as if he ask if he were allowed to come in. The head apothecary had his hands mixing herbs and welcomed the usually exuberant young boy with open arms. Alfred dusted his tunic and walked in cautiously, trying to catch a glimpse as to whether or not the guardian was awake. Short apprentices pitied the boy, as everyone knew that the sheltered teenager was the jewel in the Chief's eyes, and that he never wanted to see Alfred upset. It was ironic that it was in fact the Chief's creeping demise that would send the boy in hysterics. One apprentice grabbed the hand of Alfred, the boy jerking his head. Assuring him that he meant no harm, the apprentice gestured to the wooden crate for Alfred to sit on, so he faced his guardian's face. From the rough breathing, it seemed that the Chief was still awake. Alfred tucked his smooth and pale hands into the Chief's and smiled.

"_Why are you here, boy? It's hunting season,_" the Chief murmured.

The apothecaries and apprentices stepped aside to allow the two to talk. Heaven knew how much longer they had.

"_If it's hunting season, then why are you not out with me?_" Alfred whispered, back, his blue eyes full a mixture of anger and depression. "_You know I'm great with the bow, but it's not the same if you don't chastise me for overusing the arrows." _

The Chief stifled a mirthless laugh. "_Thank you for staying._"

Alfred was tall for his age, taller than most in the Southern Plains. He bent down and kissed the crown of his guardian's head.

"_My boy, the spirits have spoken," _the Chief sighed. Alfred tensed. What did that mean?"

"_Are we being invaded?" _

"_No, no, nothing like that." _Alfred's guardian paused to cough violently into his fist. The head apothecary flinched to hand over the herb mixture he had been grinding. Alfred stood up to reach out for the stone bowl, but the Chief shook his head. "_No, need, my boy. Sit down."_

Alfred obliged.

_"I never told you the story, and it's sad because it might be too late. But in a few weeks, word will reach out that these lands are without a leader, but they are wrong. They will sail their monarchical and empiric ways to try to take you, and keep you, and all these lands._"

The eighteen year old gave the old man a weird look.

"_You don't want that, do you?"_

"_Alfred, there was a time when I worked alongside those people._"

The Chief paused and exhaled loudly.

_"With your father, no less._"

Alfred blinked quickly and twitched a bit at the revelation. The Chief bore a slightly guilty look, but kept a steady look at the boy. Eventually, the blonde just shook his head and wrapped his arms around his guardian. He didn't know who his father was. Odds were, if the man were still alive, he didn't care less. His father didn't raise him. The Chief, the Plains and his Spirit brought him up. If was going to lose one, he would be damned if he lost them all.

The Southern Plains were practically isolated from the rest of the world, the more modernized world divided in large sectors, overlooked by expanding dreams. Its history was blended, depending on where your source was from, but unless you've actually lived and accustomed yourself to its environment, you would think it was barren and lacking any potential to join forces with some of the stronger Empires. It was located just under the peaceful Kingdom of Kanata, which happened to be an actual trading partner from time to time, usually just before winter when Kanata's agricultural sector started its season long slumber. But no one really knows how the government, or its people were assembled.

Alfred F. Jones tied the thick string of his cloak to retain any body heat as he traipsed alone down the hall. It was almost 7, and the lamps and torches were starting to wear away. He watched apothecaries walk in and out of the Chief's bedroom, giving the sky silent prayers and he made his way to the kitchen.

The 18 year old had always known life living in the 3 storey wooden 'mansion' that was modelled after those that the bourgeois lived in in Kanata. It was rather modest compared to stories of those brick and ivy that were built in the Britannia Empire and was acted almost like a shelter for those who couldn't afford their own housing. Overseers of the Plains, and the Chief and his fellow government-like colleagues all resided in the home. It was nothing like a castle or a stone building that housed government officials. Still, it was Alfred's home.

The home he'd always known.

Now word was spreading that other people from other homes were coming to try to take the Plains for themselves? Where did that put Alfred? Was he going to accept it? Was he?

Alfred poked his head into the kitchen and found it was empty.

Well, he could eat his problems away.

At least for now.

* * *

"Your highness, these were delivered to you."

A soldier that typically guarded the gates of the castle held onto a fresh bunch of sunflowers with an expensive placard sticking out of the bouquet. Gilbert swivelled his body only to widen his eyes at the usually-regarded romantic gesture. The prince gave the sunflowers a weird look, glancing between Gilbert and the soldier. His polar bear leaped off his lap to allow its owner to accept the flowers. Matthew coughed in his fist and picked up the placard. It was definitely of good quality- not usually used in Kanata as it was a waste of their pulp and paper (a major economic export of the Kingdom). Neat calligraphy was scrawled on the card. Gilbert hissed under his breath.

Even with his awesome undercover-ness for Kanata, what he felt for the prince stopped him from warning him earlier. Matthew read the card three times over and looked over at his trusted friend.

"What is this…?"

Gilbert scratched his neck.

"I-I-Ivan…as in the Emperor of the East…?" Matthew stuttered. He took hold of the sunflowers to relieve the soldier. Once the guard member had left, Matthew shut the door and set the flowers on a nearby counter. "He…wants to come see me?"

The former prince of the Germania kingdom lulled his head back and swore in his mother tongue.

Matthew giggled nervously, "Did you not want to tell me?"

The silver haired male just fake-chuckled, "Surprise. Awesome, huh?"

_Why is Birdie smiling?_

"Is there anything else related to his visit? We don't do as much trade with them, I suppose, but their empire is so vast, and ocean imports are expensive- oh! Maybe-"

Gilbert put his hand up.

"My awesomeness has all the details from my awesome intelligence team."

_Ow, my chest hurts._

Matthew nodded, and brought out another glass bottle of beer brewed locally in Kanata.

"It would be nice to re-establish good relations with others, don't you think?"

_Oh, yeah, _great _relations~ _

Gilbert downed 9 glasses of beer before his prince finished his first.

* * *

Afterword;;

here are the unofficial titles of the characters so far (they might change)

Ivan/Russia : Supreme Emperor of the Eastern Front  
Matthew/ Canada: Heir Apparent and Prince of the Kingdom of Kanata  
Gilbert/ Prussia: Former Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Germania / Commander-in-Chief of Kanata Intelligence & Military  
Alfred/ America: Son of the Southern Plains

...yeah :D more to come if I continue this fic xx

Dandy


	3. The British (& French) Are Coming

Ever since he'd inherited- or assumed- the title of Emperor, Ivan never really gave it much thought of taking a consort. While his silver-blonde younger sister continued to vie for his utmost attention and heart, he never saw the real reason of going through all the trouble of courting and proposing. He had occasional mistresses who were scared of him, but were willing to give up themselves to please the man who held so much power, if not the world, in the East. Ivan found satisfaction, but never love, but those feelings of amour and feeling wanted seemed to have been buried so long ago with his childhood, and his lost parents. The Emperor picked up the scroll he had gotten Lord Eduard to draw up for him. It was a scroll of Prince Matthew of Kanata.

True, the Emperor didn't know the Prince, and he was almost certain that the Prince was probably panicking over the fact that such a terrorizing character was demanding to stay in his peaceful kingdom, but the tranquility and peace that the Prince seemed to bore in his face made Ivan at least calm. They both lived in rather cold lands, and he knew the boy to have lost his father many years ago. They could relate in that fact, and the man wasn't terribly distasteful in his countenance- quite the opposite actually. Ivan had asked Eduard to cease the abrupt proposal, and instead asked him to issue just a notice of visitation, with of course, a fresh bouquet of sunflowers.

One thing that Ivan wanted to make sure was that none of his still-bitter enemies found out.

Two decades ago, the Kingdom of Kanata had been flourishing under its king- Matthew's famed father. All the lands from sea to sea connected under the king, and the economy and expansion ventures boomed. It was relatively strong without a plethora of neighbour enemies, but eventually, as time went on, the king's ailing health brought his Kanata tumbling down as well. It was left to fend for itself, and no one really thought twice about making alliances or having good diplomatic relations with such a quiet and cold country. Ivan's own Russi had started off terribly big, and his dreams brought it to want to be bigger. He supposed the Prince and his Queen Mother had no such ambitions, and kept the kingdom to itself, to be self-sufficient.

Ivan set the scroll down and gazed at the chunk of land labelled _Kanata. _

Could he actually be married to the heir? Would they actually unite the peaceful northern kingdom (full of secretive natural resources and lands of potential) with Ivan's own ruthless and powerful empire?

The thought just made Ivan's body shiver in delight.

He could have done the simpler thing and just asked his men to invade quickly. Of course, he'd need to locate quicker the actual capital of Kanata, but whatever. It was the fact that the last time the Emperor had tried to fricking invade, that steel-eyed British bastard had caught on too quickly and interjected Ivan's takeover of Belgine. Even if there was no real use of the small land, the Britannia Empire seemed content to send out its admirable navy to stop whatever invasion Ivan wanted.

"Even when enemies, the two seem to always be allied," Ivan murmured, pointing to the modest Kingdom of Gaulle, and the Britannia Empire.

That was why it was crucial his plan to win over Kanata could not be a military battle this time. It was an intelligence one.

All he needed now was a way to get the Prince to accept a proposal.

O-O-O-O-O

"ARE YOU BLOODY KIDDING ME? YOU INSUFFERABLE WANKER! HOW DARE YOU-"

The King of Gaulle gave his current British acquaintance a flirtatious smirk and winked. The two rivals face each other off before Francis squealed in delight and wrapped his arms around the grumpy British prince. Arthur gave a loud yelp and fell to the ground. The men that had accompanied him on his voyage to the Southern Plains hesitated to move, seeing as it was another royal currently molesting their prince. Francis's men chuckled and exchanged words in their native tongue about the obvious love that sparked in the two's tension. Arthur tugged on the King's hair, sending Francis to jump back.

"Oh, my dear Prince, so violent~"

"IF YOU WOULD KEEP YOUR DAMN HANDS TO YOURSELF-"

"So loud, so loud," Francis sighed, mockingly covering his ears.

Arthur was no amused.

Yes, they had been childhood enemies forever, even though Francis was about 3 years older. Arthur's family had the empire, but Francis's had the money. Francis, the older son with only a younger sister in tow, had ascended the Gaulle throne a year ago, and Arthur was sure the git now used his power to get on Arthur's nerves whenever. Arthur himself had a drunkard of an older brother who was currently next in line for the Empire, but Arthur got the ranks of Naval Captain, and his father's favourite.

SOMEHOW, his supposedly secret voyage to inspect the Southern Plains had been leaked, and lo-behold, that French speaking wanker had welcomed the Britannia Navy with open arms and crates of wine. Francis bore his best velvets and jewels to welcome his long-time childhood friend (at least he thought so). Nevertheless, Arthur was furious.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur hissed, ordering his men to dock and set up a camp near the coast.

Francis shrugged, allowing his men to do more or less the same.

Oddly enough, the two 'rivals' were only really enemies with each other. Their kingdoms vied well diplomatically, and sure, their history consisted of a few wars and such, but in the end, it was no secret the two kingdoms would ally themselves against any 'bigger' power. AKA the Eastern Front. Arthur was still pissed though. Here he was, trying maybe set up trading or a small colony in these barbaric lands in the West, and his French rival had beat him to it.

"Do I get a kiss for getting here quicker?" Francis smiled, leaning over

Arthur rolled his eyes and swung a fist at the taller man.

O-O-O-O

Young domestic helpers buzzed around his room helping the aging Chief sit up. They propped thick pillows to elevate the man and set aside fresh buckets of water to keep the ailing Guardian hydrated. The Chief nodded slowly to give them his gratitude and looked out the window.

The crops that were grown just outside the wooden building seemed to be in good season, and he was happy that his people would be at least fed come the winter.

At least one thing eased his heart.

His mind drifted off slowly back to his godchild.

He had spent almost every waking hour and second thinking back to the young adult that knew so little. The Chief never realized there was so much he had failed to tell the boy. Sure, Alfred was usually a cocky, spirited, exuberant child, but it was well known Alfred acted to defend his beliefs, and defend his people.

He felt a wave of fatigue hit him, but he tired off with good hopes for the Son of the Southern Plains.

O-O-O-O-O

"BULLSEYE!"

Arthur's head turned when a very boyish voice echoed into his eardrums. The Naval Captain had, with some difficulty, tried to lose the damned French King, and gone off wandering a bit alone. He removed his hat and tried to find the owner of such an ecstatic demeanour. Arthur marvelled at the expansive land that he could already see grown miles of crops. Suddenly, a large shadow loomed over him, making the Captain freeze.

"Uh…who're you?" the same voice went.

Arthur turned around to face a tall blue-eyed blonde, a bow and arrow tucked under his arm. Telling from his complexion and key features, Arthur shook his head because the boy resembled those back home so well, and if Arthur hadn't known any better, he would have assumed the male to be from his own crew. However, his flatter accent and ragged clothes said otherwise. The Captain gave a look of amusement at the game poultry the taller man had in his grasp.

Arthur bowed very slowly out of courtesy, but then locked eyes with the young man.

"Hello, might I ask who you are, and where you're from?"

"What?"

The Naval Captain didn't look satisfied. He jammed his hate back on and pulled on the collars of Alfred's tunic. The Brit gave his victim an intimidating smile.

Alfred snorted and shoved the man off with ease, in turn, picking Arthur up but his rich fabrics. He could tell the man wasn't from around here, which meant he was probably _visiting._

Arthur gasped quickly at the younger man's strength and ignorance. Did he not know who Arthur was?

"If you've come to invade, then get the fu-k out. We don't fu-king WANT you here."

"Pish posh, boy. Have you no manners? Are you from this barbaric land, or perhaps up north in the peace? You're quite the handsome fellow."

Alfred rolled his eyes and dropped his game. He released his grip on Arthur as well, dusting himself off. "You do anything to hurt my people, and I won't hesitate to shoot all your men in the skull." He said harshly some words that Arthur couldn't understand, and it was all assumed it from the Native tongue of the Plains. Alfred took a bow and shot it in seconds within a perfect small circle carving. The tip hit the tree trunk with a scary 'WHOOP', making Arthur actually quite impressed. Alfred sneered and picked up his game once more, running the other direction.

Being the curious man that he was, Arthur followed quietly behind.


	4. Chapter 4

**a/n;; OH LOOK, I'm not dead :D Just buried on catching up on homework and tests...  
notes: this is a RusAme- aiming for a brotherly USUK/ FRUS (REPEAT BROTHERLY)**

**without further ado-**

* * *

"_Amerika, you have brought a guest?"_

Alfred's ears perked at the sound of his nickname being used. The owner of the voice sounded like one of the young mothers that occasionally stopped by to have her child being taken care of as she ventured to deliver her hand-made blankets to customers that lived a few away. The blonde was currently washing his face and changing from his hunting clothes into clean wear. He turned around with his rag scratching behind his ears.

"_Guest? I didn't bring a guest. What are you talking about, Nativa?"_

The raven-haired woman gave Alfred a confused look, and stepped aside. Still clad in his rich red jacket and leather boots, the familiar pale face Alfred had seen earlier bowed, as if it were customary. Alfred tossed his rag back into the basin and narrowed his eyes at the green-eyed man. How dare such invader follow him home? Didn't the man have any morals from where he was from? Alfred mumbled thanks to the woman and sent her back on her way. Arthur decided it was appropriate to step in closer into Alfred's room.

"Don't get any closer," Alfred cautioned.

Arthur backed away. "You speak this barbaric language to the savage, but you have the words of the Empire's English. How is that?"

Alfred gripped the basin. "Are you here to ruin us? Get away! We don't need you!"

"Quiet, git, I am not of that much power. I derive from the Empiric Islands of Britannia, yes, but I am not threat, _yet,_" the Captain mused. "Truthfully, I bumped into you by accident. I was trying to get away from that perverted French wanker."

A slur of Arthur's words was foreign to the Son. Alfred just cocked his head to the side, half thinking if he had enough speed to grab his bow. He felt oddly intimidated by the shorter man, and even though he was a hero, the shield of his arrow didn't hurt.

Still, the man looked both confused and dare he say it, innocent.

"I'm sorry…" Alfred mumbled in defeat.

This caught Arthur on guard.

"You haven't drawn anything out so maybe your intentions are sincere. Come, let me escort you to the den. We will talk there." Alfred decided, gesturing to the door.

* * *

Beautiful pure women buzzed around the small room that Arthur guessed was the kitchen. A small fire cackled with game and fish hung to dry and preserve. The women gossiped quietly as Alfred walked into the kitchen with the Captain in tow. Alfred whispered into the ear of one woman, who scattered the rest of the women out. The boy tossed his hunted meat into a tin bucket and set it aside.

"Sit," Alfred said in a friendly, but guarded tone. He offered the other man a clean wooden bowl of hot water, and took the seat beside him. Alfred pointed to himself and then at the other.

"Who are you? Where are you from?"

There were many answers that Arthur felt were appropriate as the answer. He removed his Captain's hat off his head of messy butter-yellow hair and set his chin on his fist. He wondered how much knowledge the savage boy might know. There was so much that he felt the boy in front of him was unaware of- all the fighting, bloodshed and lust for power across the pond. From what he'd observed on his way over, this Alfred character was definitely not a civilian of a completely industrialized kingdom. That being said, Arthur also wondered how the people functioned in theses plains.

They had good resources, mind you.

Arthur looked up the boy- who couldn't possibly be over 20. For a second, those bluish eyes and blonde hair reminded him of someone. Perhaps a royal in a past life, or something….Arthur shook his head. He extended his right hand and said curtly.

"I guess I should formally introduce myself. My name's Arthur Kirkland. I may not be first in line, blast all, but I am a member of the prominent Britannia Empire. My father possesses much of the power across the sea. I am a Captain, if my hat does not point that out."

Alfred just blinked. He gave the extended hand a firm grip, but didn't shake it.

"Well, I'm Alfred."

Arthur just cocked his head.

"You know, you don't _look _like any of the _others._ If I could be so bold, you look more like _us._" He gestured to his alabaster skin and light-coloured hair.

"Physicality only says so much, man." Alfred 'pfft-d'. Then his shoulders slumped. "I- I guess you're right though."

"AND you speak my mother tongue…"

"This ain't about me! I just wanna know why you're here!"

Ha, no, this was getting good. Arthur pursed his lips.

"It's good to be equal. Your grammar is insufferable, but do tell, why do you live here?"

Alfred swore under his breath in the tongue of his People.

"Come again?"

"Look, it was nice and all, but I have other things to do. So, whatever you're doing here, please go."

"You're not a very good people person, are you?"

Alfred ran his hand through his hair.

O-O-O-O-O

Eduard couldn't seem to sit still in his seat, clutching onto the base and his eyes twitching ever so often. From what he was getting, the technologically-inclined lord was in a state where half of him felt like he should have been happy, but the other half was shaking violently. His Supreme Emperor had given one task, and that was to watch over their lovely co-existing kingdoms for any migration to the Kanata lands. Ivan could be greedy, and in this case, he felt no shame in admitting it. He would not let ANYONE touch those resource-rich lands. The lands that would make his stake at being the largest Empire secure.

The French and the British were the most important at the moment. Ivan had doubts that the Germanic Empire at the moment needed expansion. They were relatively prominent, but they were going through a slight crisis over their ruling monarchy. It was rumoured that the French many decades ago had already established a pseudo claim over a small portion in the Kanata lands, but Ivan was sure that once he got his powerful hands on the land, it wouldn't be a problem. The Emperor was planning on sailing to Kanata in about 4 weeks.

But this was weird.

Eduard scrunched up his face. There were sightings of the British navy docking just south of Kanata, the French basically there too.

"I mean, technically, that's not where I should be looking right?" Eduard mumbled to himself.

But it was awfully close.

The Lord of Intelligence in the Eastern Front inhaled a large breath, and leaned back against his chair. He wasn't sure if this was worth the trip to Ivan's to tell him. To be frank, Eduard was pretty sure the British were hoping to find some sort of civilization to forcefully take more slaves, because it was a large story that just south of Kanata was a haven of savages and old, _old _civilization. And the French monarch was probably just trying to piss off the Captain again.

Oh, those two.

Then again, if Ivan considered this crucial notice and Eduard didn't tell him… Oh, then Eduard was _screwed._

With a heavy sigh, and a waste of a perfectly good piece of papyrus paper, the lord sent out what he found. And if Ivan found it useless and stupid, then damn him.

(But Eduard didn't say that)

O-O-O-O-O

"So yeah, I would guess you could say that I'm adopted…"

"No, really?" Arthur muttered. He wondered if the Son knew of sarcasm.

"It's the only explanation." Alfred shrugged. "That's why the call me Son of the Southern Plains. They think I've descended from the Gods. It's the only thing that explains my blonde hair, and my blue eyes."

"No one else knows of your upbringing."

Alfred gave Arthur a look. He had just met the man, and wasn't too sure if he should trust him or not.

"Uh, someone does."

Arthur opened his mouth.

"But it doesn't matter. He's… not in the perfect state…"

Arthur noticed the boy grow increasingly uncomfortable. He offered to lighten the mood.

"It's getting kind of late. Say, why don't you escort me to my camp site? You can meet the French pervert on our way."

Alfred raised his eyebrow, and picked up his arrow and bow. He winked at his new friend. "You can never be too sure." The Son of the Southern Plains called out to one of the many women in the house to explain his temporary departure. The mothers gave the young adult words of caution and safety. They also all gave the British prince a glare.

"So, you never did say, Arthur, why're you guys here?" Alfred asked as the two stepped into the twilight air. Alfred strapped on his bow and arrow across his torso and pulled his tunic down to cover more of his thighs. His summer tights were not doing the best job at keeping him warm. He would need to ask Nativa to stitch a light vest made of hide for the summer nights….

"Me? Oh, right, my crew…"

Alfred nodded.

Arthur had been trying to avoid that question.

"Well, I feel if I were to tell you, you'd shoot me right now."


End file.
